


From deep down I know, and am not lost.

by Sharky_Smil3



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, Fuck it., I keep forgetting to add the Dragon Ball in parenthesis for the character names, M/M, Mentioned GoChi, Mentioned Videl/Son Gohan Jr., Metioned VegeBul, This was supposed to be an arranged marriage one shot, but now I am not sure what this is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 20:48:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17905373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharky_Smil3/pseuds/Sharky_Smil3
Summary: “Your eyes are blue,”points out Goten flatly. Trunks sends him a look, before answering.“And your hair is black...” a pause, “my mother has blue eyes.” Trunks looks at Goten again before continuing, “you look at lot like your father.”





	From deep down I know, and am not lost.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Ingeborg Bachman’s In the Storm of Roses: Bohemia Lies by the Sea.
> 
> Again, I don’t know how to make titles, so I borrow words from authors.

Ox King’s Castle, Ox Kindgom

Dear Mrs. Briefs,

Will you allow your son to join a juvenile party at our house, at 9 o’clock, on the 21st of July of Age 779? It is Goten’s birthday, and I have invited a few of his friends to keep it with him. If you can favor us with your company it would be lovely.

With kind regards,

Believe me,

Yours Sincerely,

Son Milk

 

A letter from the Ox Kingdom, one of the most powerful kingdoms on Earth, and an invitation to the son’s birthday. Bulma smiles, letter resting against her mouth as she mulls over her response.

If the family had a son, they were sure to have a daughter too right? If not how would the kingdom be standing if not for marriages? Or treaties? —Honestly, Bulma wasn’t too familiar with how Kingdoms managed themselves, but she was interested enough to see what her son’s options were. Vegeta is a Saiyan Prince himself, perhaps not from the planet Earth, but a Prince nonetheless and Bulma did take an interest after a short visit there.

Heading towards the headquarters backyard, she finds her parents and Trunks, drinking their afternoon tea.

“Guess what,” starts Bulma with a huge grin, slamming the letter on the small table, her mother and father lean in curiously, “we got invited to one of the Ox Kingdom’s heir birthday party.”

“Oh that is such great news Bulma,” responds her mother cheerfully, clasping her hands together before glancing over at Trunks, “you hear that Trunks you can make a friends there!”

Briefly darting his eyes up, Trunks hums in agreement before looking back down at his book.

“It is two days from now, so we better go and get appropriate clothing.”

“That sounds like a great idea! I will come with you Bulma, Trunks and Vegeta should also come so they can find clothes.”

“Great!” Exclaims Bulma, brushing her hand against Trunks’s head as she makes her way towards the gravity room to give Vegeta the news.

***

“This has to be the best birthday party! The Briefs family may have a daughter, perhaps we can strike up a union between their corporation and our kingdom,” says Milk, running up and down the halls, giving orders while dragging heavier items into the backyard.

Goku is carrying the tables to sit the guests, when he hears Milk’s ranting and frowns “Milk don’t you think Gohan and Goten should have a say in who they marry?”

It takes a minute, but it does makes the woman stop on her tracks and turn around to face her husband.

“If we did allow that do you really think they’d fare well choosing a bride?”

“Uh....” Goku decides, that this is probably one of those rhetorical questions, silence is his best bet.

“No! They wouldn’t, that’s why we are choosing for them,” she says walking up to Goku and placing her hands on his shoulders, “besides they would be choosing from a carefully selected array of brides that are attending Goten’s birthday party. Do not worry Goku, I got this under control,” she finishes, planting a kiss against his cheek before heading back inside the castle.

“I guess?” Is Goku’s dismayed response to no one in particular.

***

No sooner, did the two days pass and the excitement of Son Goten’s birthday party electrifies the guests as they arrive to Frypan Mountain.

“Wow,” whispers Bulma astonished. It was almost as if she had entered a completely different era.

In West City every house and building was made out of metal frames, cement and painted with pastel colors and flat yellows and oranges. However, ever since coming into the Ox Kingdom, all Bulma could see were various oval structures. Condominiums arranged so that each created a circle, heavy stonework elegantly arranged and sculpted to give each home a unique look. One particular theme that all homes seemed to share was the depiction of animal hybrids standing on the sides of each homes’ entrance.

“Why did we come here again?” Asks the annoyed voice of Trunks, he’s watches as lantern adorned domes zoom past them. Once in a while he sees children playing right outside of a house, stopping mid game to gaze curiously at their flying car. Trunks sighs again, louder this time and once again until Vegeta threatens to give him a real reason to sigh.

Rolling his eyes, he goes back to staring out the window when something catches his attention from his peripheral view. Giant gates open revealing a monstrous castle behind them.

Bulma whistles at the sight, “would you look at that!”

“It’s huge,” agrees Trunks, blue eyes wide as the towering edification grows closer and closer.

“This will be great!” Squeaks out Bulma in her excitement, certainly she could find a suitable bride here for Trunks, if not from the Son family, at least from any other royal. Besides, her father could use a little more expansion of quarters beyond West City.

They park and exit the car, following the stream of guests walking towards the entrance of the castle. Once in doors, a maid personally takes a family and guides them into the main ball room. Bulma cannot help but gape at the seemingly thickness of the walls. Three to four layers of stone set firmly against each other. Nothing could bring such castle down.

She stops herself from gawking when Vegeta elbows her side and jerks his head forward. Ahead of them are various families, most women dressed in bright qipao and men matching in color with their own daopao attire.

It is such a huge contrast from her own flower-patterned navy blue, collar shirt and knee long skirt. A black belt fastened around her waist and a set of yellow heels, finish the look. Vegeta and Trunks decided against anything flashy and dressed more casual, a white button shirt and black pants. Trunks opting to dress with a purple long sleeve and a grey vest over that and black pants.

There were few families that dressed like they did, but for the majority of the guests it was the qipao and daopao.

“This is great, we stand out, so we must make a good impression,” starts Bulma, catching Vegeta and Trunks’s arms.

“Woman, unhand me, if you really want to make a good impression then behave,” growls out Vegeta before Bulma slaps the side of his arm, hard.

She turns to Trunks, running her fingers through his lavender hair fondly, “you too. No running away from the party please, and no hiding. Try to be more sociable.”

Trunks makes a face before responding, “Mother, I _am_ the sociable one here,” he deadpans. Looking over at his dad with a pointed look. Vegeta snorts and turns away from them.

“Come on! Time to meet the Son family!”

Their maid comes back, and cheerfully asks them to follow. They walk down a wide corridor, most of the walls within the castle are dark and sculpted. The decorations are what make the whole place look less gloomy and asphyxiating. Every hundred meters, brightly colored headdresses hang spread out beautifully and imposingly. They are made out of feathers some with peacock feathers, giving them the feel as if they were being watched through the eyes there.

As they near the exit into the backyard, Bulma looks up to see two images standing side by side, the Ox King’s portrait and the Son’s family portrait with an infant baby in Milk’s arms. Bulma hoped that the infant turns out to be a daughter—a _grown_ daughter.

Their guide bows and leaves them alone, which lasts for a few seconds before a second maid leads them to a table with their name on it. It is also near to the Son’s table. Gleefully Bulma sits down, this is just perfect. Maybe both were on the same page. After all, their company is pretty well known. She looks down at her chest and arranges the brooch of the company’s logo.

The Ox King is the first one to speak, and all talking ceases, he thanks all the present families for their time and for coming to Son Goten’s 12th birthday. He asks that they enjoy themselves fully and unrestrained, and soon music begins to play.

Bulma takes Vegeta by the hand, dragging him into the dance floor, an attempt at getting closer to the Son family and strike up a conversation. Goku and Milk are dancing themselves and laughing.

Trunks watches with bored interest as his parents go up to the dance floor. He waits, debating whether to keep his word or go before his parents embarrass him. When he sees Bulma coaxing Vegeta into following her steps, he flees.

 

He is walking around the side of the castle grounds with his hands in his pockets. The cold of the evening bites even through his clothes.

He, theoretically, could fly and go back home but that implies actually doing the act and he is far too tired for that and the prospects of his mother’s wrath are more than enough to not act on impulse.

“So I’m stuck here until mom has enough,” mutters Trunks under his breath, and from first hand experience his mom _never_ has enough of anything.

Deciding that he might as well explore, with a surge of power coiling at his core, he pushes it towards his feet and up he goes flying in a flash of yellow.

He lands with a soft tud on the other side of the castle walls and heads towards the heart of town.

—Or so he thought he was going.

Trunks resorts to flying when walking in circles and hitting dead ends of forest trees, gets his pulse pumping.He flies up high enough to see the lanterns, all coming from different directions in the area, coiling and stretching enough to make the whole town look like a labyrinth trail. He flies towards the middle of the place and hopes to find anything of interest there.

As soon as he lands on the street, he hears people shouting at him. He looks behind him in time to see a cart rushing towards him. He pushes himself out of the way just in time to watch it zoom past, followed by more carts.

“We have brought tonight’s feast. A gift from the Ox King to celebrate Son Goten’s 12th birthday!”

Trunks watches in bewilderment as kids and teens no older than him, run after the carts.

At least they knew how to treat their people right, figures Trunks as he walks around the small village. In the middle of it, there is a plaza of sorts, small booths stand proudly with simple banners advertising what each sold.

He walks around looking curiously at each item. Many owners smile and offer him food samples, fried dumplings, a cup of tea, a type of roll with veggies inside it, and something wrapped in a coarse bamboo leaf and white strings— which he decides against eating because he is not exactly keen in being surprised by his food. There are various booths littered with items in red and golden tones. Bracelets, paper and envelops, as well as wind spinners.

He gets shoved a wooden wiggly snake in his face, he looks up to see the smiling face of a child. The mother hoisting her against her hip. He smiles and thanks her before taking it. Maybe they aren’t selling booths as he originally thought.

He hears commotion on the opposite side of the plaza, and sees children tackling each other to the ground, pulling and shoving each other in an attempt to keep the other person flat against the dirt road. None of the adults seem to mind it, so Trunks continues his aimless wandering.

He’s far too distracted with the wooden snake to notice the dog not too far from him. He hears a yelp and suddenly he is faced with the growling face of a very, _very_ angry canine.

He’s rooted to the spot and cold sweat quickly takes over his body. His hands are clammy and the wooden snake break under his clenched hands. Trunks, bless his soul, fucking hates dogs.

The dog starts barking viciously, drool flying everywhere, and it slowly makes an advance towards him. Trunks cannot help the strangled noise that comes from his throat.

Blue eyes widen as he watches the dog’s back leg prepare to launch and—

Bulma will probably revive him only to kill him again. Trunks Briefs, son of Bulma Briefs and future heir to Capsule Corporation assassinated in cold blood by an animal. A disgrace. And his father- his father would probably do the same as his mother if this was to be his unslight death. He closes his eyes, bracing himself for the worse.

There is a dash of movement that gets his bangs into his eyes. A yelp and a voice,

“Bad dog, go on, go on, no bothering the guests. Shoo, shoo,” scolds the voice. Cracking an eye open he sees tussled black hair. His savior is wearing a sleeves blue changsan, a long sleeve lavender shirt and matching lavender pants.

This must be-

“That sure was close!” Chirps the teen, turning to face Trunks with a smile, “you really weren’t going to move were you?”

“I- y-yeah I was!” He pitches defensively, puffing out his chest before crossing his arms, “I didn’t need your help,” he insists.

The male laughs merrily, before stretching out a hand, “you must be the Briefs’ son.”

“Trunks, and-“

“I’m Son Goten, and I kind of have to know the names of our guests, mom said so,” he explains with a shrug.

“Shouldn’t you be in the castle then?” Asks Trunks with a raised brow, for a royal family they sure didn’t keep an eye on the main attraction.

“Ah, it’s too boring,” he says and quickly grabs Trunks hand and leads him into the plaza, “let’s go, I’ll show you around here.”

More than a little put off by Goten’s personality, Trunks settles with just going along with it. Why go through any of the unnecessary ‘where are we going’ and follow up questions.

As they snake their way through, many of the people recognize Goten and greet him cheerfully, congratulating him and going so far as to invite him to stay and eat dinner. Which he promptly refuses, never letting go of Trunks hand. This pattern goes on for over fifteen minutes before Trunks finally decides to call it quits,

“Oi, stop it with the dragging-“

“We are here!”

Before them is a circle of women holding huge flat straw baskets between open legs. In their hands are large heads of sunflowers, and they are stripping the seeds off the flower. Goten is explaining what the women are doing when he hears a loud popping sound and faint sizzling, a peculiar smell wafts towards them.

“That’s where they roast them, they put a lot of salt too. They are pretty tasty.”

“Goten” greets a small girls cheeks flushed pink as she presents Goten with a batch of freshly roasted sunflower seeds, “for you.”

“Thank you!” He chirps and gratefully takes it from the girl’s hand, smiling brightly at her. The girl scatters back to the group of children, where they squeal at the sight of Goten. In the middle of them, also lays a straw basket with roasted sunflower seeds. In their legs, each child has a white linen where they spit or manually shuck the empty shells.

“Come on, let’s sit over here,” starts Goten, stopping for a second when a woman reminds him to take a linen himself.

They sit on the dirt, much to Trunks’ chagrin. Goten easily crosses and curls his legs under him, basket balanced perfectly in hands as he goes down. Trunks is less gracious and smooth about it, robotically sitting down and then crossing his legs.

Placing the basketbetween them, Goten shoves a handful in his mouth, he catches Trunks staring at him in confusion, so Goten smiles in return, before leaning into the white linen and spitting the empty shells.

“How...”

Goten grins, “practice! Years of practice,” he answers, grabbing two and popping them into his mouth. He talks over them, “I used to eat them by twos, but I never had enough patience to really sit through the whole thing. So I’d leave. But since I started to get more and more bored with studying, I started to come into town a lot more.” Trunks watches as the he swishes around the seeds in his mouth before spitting them back out.

He reaches himself for one and lets it rest against his tongue, the salty flavor quickly coats his mouth. They do taste good.

“And?”

“And, I saw a bunch of kids quietly sitting down in a circle and I went over to see what it was, and sure enough, they were eating sunflower seeds. I guess it’s kind of like a tradition of sorts. They do this in the afternoons for the most part, when both morning and afternoon sessions are over.”

“School.”

Goten nods, popping another handful of seeds and crunching on them loudly, the more he crunches the more Trunks starts to get annoyed.

“Stop that,” he orders, making a face of disgust, “for someone royal you sure don’t have manners.”

Goten stares at him for a full five seconds before, and very pointedly, spitting out the mess of saliva and crushed shells.

“Disgusting.”

“Yum!” Replies Goten with a shit-eating grin, leaning into Trunks and laughing at the other’s reaction.

Silence falls on them again, with the occasional crunching from Goten. Strangely enough, Trunks doesn’t feel the need to keep up appearances with the young royal. And for someone he just met, he sure doesn’t feel awkward sitting in the dirt, eating sunflower seeds.

“Your eyes are blue,”points out Goten flatly. Trunks sends him a look, before answering.

“And your hair is black...” a pause, “my mother has blue eyes.” Trunks looks at Goten again before continuing, “you look at lot like your father.”

Goten shrugs, wiping his chest from any remnants of shells, “yeah, I hear that a lot,” he answers with a slight edge in his voice.

“I bet they also compare you two a lot, huh?”

Another shrug and Goten shoves more sunflower seeds in his mouth.

 

By the time twilight approaches, they have eaten sunflower seeds until they got full, walked around the area, danced something Goten called _Folkloric_ dance— all he recalls is the waving white and colorful skirts of the woman and the foot tapping of the men. Another dance is presented to Goten, so they didn’t actually dance but watched. _Concheros_ dance, and from that too all he remembers is the rattle of beads and colorful colorful headdresses.

Both fly back to the castle (after Trunks stopped his unintelligible sputtering) and reach the end of the party on time. That day Trunks also finds out that his father is not the only survivor of his race. Goten, Goten’s brother and father are of Saiyan descent.

But much to Bulma’s and Milk’s dismay, neither of them had any daughters.

 

Bulma makes it a promise to Vegeta that they get to work and produce a daughter already. It is a good thing that Trunks has trained himself to breathe to fall asleep on the spot. He didn’t have to hear her ranting through the eight hour trip.

***

They keep in touch. For the most part through letters. Letters his mother doesn’t hesitate to rip open when she notices who the sender is.

So when she tries to open the box that Goten sent, she is promptly met with a very lively frog jumping on her. Hearing the satisfying scream, Trunks basks in it and in what little freedom he may have left before Bulma storms into his room.

She grounds him for an entire month.

***

They keep at it like that for two years. A record for both males, given their lack of patience to sit and actually write a letter and go through the painful process of putting it inside an envelop and giving it to the mailman.

By age 782, Goten’s coming of age party is being celebrated. Goten’s brother, Gohan, is freshly engaged with the daughter of an aristocrat living North East from Frypan Mountain.

Both teens escape to town, dance and eat sunflower seeds again.

Now both are much older, Trunks sports his hair in a longer length. Which Goten attempts to make fun of, but is promptly shut when Trunks sends a vicious elbow to his side.

This time they also drink themselves stupid and lazily fly back, tumbling on their steps when they manage to make landfall on the castle.

And for some reason Bulma finds it appropriate to ground him for another entire month. The catch this time: he couldn’t send letters or call (a genius invention of his mother) Goten.

***

Age 784

“Trunks, you cannot keep rejecting all these wonderful young ladies.” Bulma strides in, long hair fluttering after her as she hurriedly sets up the coffee maker.

Sighing heavily, Trunks rubs his eyes tiredly, placing the book he was currently focused on, he looks up to his mother with an unimpressed look. His sister and him are sitting in the table, each minding their own business. So why does his mother use, the one break she willingly allows herself from her research, to question his life choices?

“Stop that. You know you need to marry soon, if not how will you take over Capsule Corp?”

“I don’t think I need a woman for that, mother. Give it to Bra! She should do it!”

Bulma groans and sighs long suffering, from both of her kids, why did it have to be the eldest that was uninterested in the family business?

“You know what, I might as well do that! You brat,” she says, tapping the back of Trunks head as she walks behind him, coffee cup in hand. “Which reminds me Trunks, please go with your sister to the shopping center she says she needs some materials for a project.”

“Why can’t dad take her?”

“Mooooom,” drawls Bra from across her seat in the table.

“Take her Trunks!” Comes Bulma’s shout.

Trunks glares at her before rolling his eyes when she sticks her tongue out. Was he ever that spoiled at his age?

Trunks thinks about it and decides that no, Bra is much more spoil than he ever was, and he’s got more manners than the harpy he calls a sister. Almost as if reading his mind, she tosses him a piece of paper, that reads _STUPID_ _LOSER_ in elegant calligraphy.

“Use your talents for something useful.”

“Shut up.”

***

Everyone, _everyone_ is telling him to get engaged already so that by his 18th birthday he can marry.

“Gohan already has a daughter Goten, wouldn’t it be nice to have one of your own?”

Goten simply hums and shrugs, never really giving an answer and that seems to hold his family off his back for a few months before they are back at it again.

Thing is, he does not want a daughter, much less a wife. Lately, he has found himself thinking of peculiar blue eyes. He stopped wearing his usual lavender shirt and pants because it is a painful reminder of he who shall not be named.

He talked to Videl about it. She’s the only one in his family that has enough tact to keep a straight face through his confession, and still manage to encourage him to pursue his real interests.

“We can tell them together,” she starts when he, again, goes to her because the need to see and touch _Trunks_ , is becoming unbearable by the minute, “or I can cover for you and you go find him. Have him send a formal letter under a false name or something. They can’t backtrack once Milk agrees.”

“Yeah, I might as well have my death wish written down. That is the perfect way to go down.”

“Goten.”

“I don’t want to do this like that. I want to do it on my own...I want this to be our decision. Well that is if-“

Videl watches as Goten’s eyes drop even more. Despite his feelings, which he is slowly accepting, what seems to haunt the other is the fact that Trunks may not feel the same way.

“You will never know unless you ask.”

Goten gives his usual response. Videl wacks him upside the head.

***

“I like a girl in school,” pipes Bra from her end of the sofa. Trunks is lazily scrolling through his phone on the other end, legs stretched out so that Bra lies in between them.

“Oh yeah?” He replies absent mindedness.

“Trunks!”

“Bra, I don’t care, it is probably just a phase!” Is his response, rolling his eyes at his sibling. Bra sits up and jumps on Trunks. She closes in on his face, red and angry.

“No idiot, I like...like girls. I don’t like boys.”

He places the phone down and sits up, dragging his sister with him. “Oh yeah?”

“Haven’t you ever felt that way? My friends say that it is just a phase, that I’m too young to know whether I like girls or boys, because I haven’t kissed either.”

Trunks snorts and hugs her tightly, “and what did you say?”

“Nothing, it is easier than to argue with them. Besides, I have been doing my research-“

“Oh no.”

“And this is what its called being a lesbian. For guys its called being gay,” and without losing a beat she stares at Trunks for a whole second before saying, “are you gay?” He sputters and fails to give her an answer.

He settles for an ‘I don’t know’. Unconvinced, Bra goes on to explain sexuality to him and oh Kami this is not a normal conversation between siblings. Especially when it is Bra doing the explaining.

“You know, I was really hoping to explain this to you at a much older age. Heck, have mom do it and not me.”

“You don’t show an interest in girls.” She points out matter of factly, and with such conviction that Trunks did not find a chance to laugh at her. “You don’t have much female friends either.”

Trunks shrugs in response and nudges Bra off him.

“Is it the Son’s youngest son?”

Once again, Trunks is left sputtering like a fish out of the water, and he glares at Bra, “NO. He’s a friend, he’s my best friend.”

“That’s what they call it nowadays.”

Without hesitation, Trunks shoves a cushion in Bra’s face, stands up, grabs the other one slams it on her before stalking off.

“Boy, you sure need to release all that pent up frustration,” calls out Bra when she removes the cushion. She hears a faint ‘Fuck off Bra’ and giggles in satisfaction.

***

“I’ll go today.”

“Really now?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell him how I feel and-“

Videl looks up from the cutting board when Goten fails to continue talking. He’s gone ghost pale. She grabs a glass and fills it with cold water.

“Here.”

“What if he gets disgusted?”

“Goten...”

“Oh god, I’ll lose the only friend I trust with my own life.”

“Goten...”

“Videl, I don’t want to lose our friendship!”

“Goten!” She snaps, and points at the glass. Promptly he downs the water and sets the crystal with a thud. “Listen, I know it is nerve wracking. And I know you just want to get this over with, but maybe just visit him in person and hang out, you can do small things like looking at him or something, I don’t know. I didn’t beat around the bush with Gohan, but Gohan is dense.”

“Agreed.”

“So, I don’t think going straight to the point might deliver the right message. That and,” Videl reaches across the table for Goten’s hands, squeezing them in reassurance, “I don’t want you to hurt yourself in such a manner. Don’t just stupidly tell him, you gotta ease it in the conversation. I’m telling you, a slight touch can do wonders.”

“This is hard.”

“So it is.”

“I can’t do it.”

“Yes you can, I believe in you Goten.”

Looking up from his hands, he offers Videl and grateful smile and decides, fuck it, he will just visit then.

 

He doesn’t tell his mom where he is going, much less announce that he’d be out for the weekend. She will certainly make him stay and study if he did. He packs a backpack with a spare pajama, underwear and a set of clothing. He texts Trunks before pocketing the device and taking off in a blur of yellow energy.

***

He’s in bed when his phone starts to chime.

I’m coming over for the weekend, reads Goten’s text. He’s smiling like an idiot at his phone and it takes him a full five minutes to really get over the excitement that Goten is coming to West City for the weekend.

“Great,” he texts back, “you can stay in my room!” As soon as he sends the text he stops and frowns.

Why was—

Oh no.

Oh _Kami_ no. Trunks refuses to acknowledge it.

It’s only natural for friends to be excited over their friends coming over, right? He always got invited to sleep overs (but never actually felt like going), and friends sleep together. Besides he never really had anyone he particularly liked enough, to have a sleep over with. His sibling turned out to be a girl, so there went his ideas for sleep overs together. So it came down to Goten, who was always in the mood for fun and went along with all his ideas.

That and- the way Goten’s eyes sparkled whenever he offered anything fun to do. Or the way Goten looked up to him as if he were perfect. Goten is the only person who is ever looking at him, even if they aren’t physically together for the most part and talked over letters and the phone, Goten still managed to be the one person who knows more about Trunks than Trunks himself.

Groaning in dismay, he covers his face with a pillow. He can feel his heart beat starting to slow down. When had it been beating faster? Could he...could he really like Goten, more than just a friend?

He snorts, “yeah right,” he murmurs before shoving his face back in the pillow. He’s attached to Goten, that’s all. Goten is a year younger than him, and he’s the only person he really tried to be friends with. It’s just attachment, he reasons.

A tap on his window brings him back from his thoughts. He wrinkles his nose and stands up to see what it was, surely-

“Trunks!”

He stares for a solid three seconds at Goten who is casually floating right outside his window in the third floor of the building, with the stupidest stupidest grin. He can feel his heart race a bit.

“What the fuck?”

“Sorry, sorry,” says Goten apologetic, clasping his hands together in prayer, “mom doesn’t know I’m coming and if your mom sees me, she’ll tell her if she calls.”

“You sneaked out?”

“Yes!” He chirps cheerfully, like it was the most obvious thing.

Trunks continues staring, debating what to do, but Goten takes matters into his own hands when he physically gets closer and puts a foot against the sill.

“No way am I freezing out here just for your amusement,” and he shoves his way through the tiny window.

“You idiot. You could have just told me, and I could have perfectly called your mother. I am sure that she’d would have let you come.”

Goten shrugs casually, dropping his backpack by the side of the bed and jumping into Trunk’s bed, “You’re like 95% of my impulse control,” he replies innocently, smiling up at him sweetly through glazed eyes.

Trunks feels heat rise to his cheeks and he grabs a pillow and covers Goten’s face with it. Holding it there for three seconds, as he wills his cheeks to go back to normal. Stupid Goten.

“Truuunks,” comes Goten’s muffled whine. He finally lifts the pillow, they look at each other before Trunks puts the pillow on Goten’s face again.

It turns into a brawl.

Goten reaches over the pillow and takes a hold of Trunk’s shirt and pulls on it hard. Now Trunks is stuck with the shirt semi-over his head, and his hold on the pillow softens. Which is Goten’s cue to switch positions, now he is on top of Trunks, straddling the other’s waist, and with the all powerful pillow in his possession. 

Trunks glares at Goten’s shit-eating grin.

He twists and trashes, manages to kick Goten off him. This trashing and struggling against the other’s weight goes on for more than ten minutes when finally Trunks over powers Goten and slams both of Goten’s hand against the bed, each hand next to Goten’s head. Both of their faces a flushed and they are breathing hard from the exertion. Goten is laughing breathlessly under him, eyes closed in his mirth.

Trunks can’t help but stare. Unconsciously, he reaches to touch Goten’s face and tucks a strand of dark hair behind his ear. Cold fingers brush against heating skin. He’s so absorbed in the way Goten’s cheeks flush, the way his lips part, his hair, and- Trunks fails to notice that Goten is staring back.

“Trunks?”

Startled he flails with a yelp and falls off the bed. Goten props his chin against his hand, peering down a his friend’s form.

“Uh, what are you doing Trunks?” And he can just tell that he’s smirking down at him, the tone just says it all.

“I am acquainting myself with the floor,” he retorts before adding, “care to join?” And without waiting for a response he also pulls Goten down.

They are laughing, with Goten’s head against Trunks stomach and his legs propped against the bed. They remain like that for a few minutes, just calming down and each coming to a slow realization.

He stared, thinks Goten. He feels light headed and too drunk in glee because this means that Trunks might feel the same way, right? He has played with Gohan before, and the children of Ox Kingdom, but they never touch each other so tenderly. And Trunks had looked so, ah, beautiful when he stared down at him.

Maybe this could be his chance?

Goten feels a shift under his head and he hits the carpeted floor with a thud.

“Want anything in particular to drink?” Asks Trunks from where he is standing, fixing his clothes. If Bra sees him, she’ll question him and try to follow and she’ll discover Goten and oh Kami- he is not letting Bra anywhere near his room at the moment.

“Anything is fine,” he answers, shouting a thanks after Trunks leaves.

Goten goes back to laying on the floor, drilling holes into the wall with his stare. This could be his chance. The worst that could happen is that he’d lose a friend...which...hurts just to imagine. He curls up in a fetal position on the floor, and clenches his clothes in a fist. His heart is beating at the thought of Trunks. It’s painful. He wants to touch him more, he want to be with him more, he wants to see him smile, laugh, cry, be angry. He wants to see all of Trunks.

He _wants_ Trunks.

But he also wants Trunks to want _him_.

His cheeks flush, he really loves the older half-Saiyan. He really, really loves Trunks. Determined to at least have some of his feelings heard, Goten decides he’ll do anything to send Trunks signals. After all, between the too, Trunks tended to be more perceptive.

When Trunks comes back with two red bean drinks, he find Goten still on the floor and curled up. He frowns and nudges the other’s back with his foot,

“Hey, get up, the carpet is dirty.”

Goten grumbles a response before sitting up and gratefully taking the drink.

“So what are we doing tomorrow?”

With a smirk and twinkling eyes, Trunks says “Rollercoasters.”

 

Both remain awake for a while, they play video games, watch TV and play some more video games. The clock reads 3:05, in big red blinking numbers, when Trunks decides they must sleep if they plan to go out at all that same morning.

“Where should I sleep?”

“You can take my bed,” answers Trunks, emerging into his room with extra blankets and pillows, “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Whaaaaat,” drawls Goten in dismay, “no, I can sleep in the floor. I don’t want to take your bed. I’m already making you lie about me being here.”

“It’s fine Goten.”

“No it is not, here,” he starts, sitting down on the blankets Trunks had laid out.

“Goten-“ Trunks is getting annoyed. Can’t this moron just take the bed? It will make both of their lives easier.

“I know! Let’s sleep together in your bed!”

Trunks stammers in response, “n-no, I don’t...wah!” Goten pulls his hand and makes him lay in bed with him.

Goten settles on the far side of the bed, planting his back against the wall, he pulls the covers around himself so only his face is visible.

“See,” he starts, taking an arm out to pat the empty spot next to him, “we both fit, besides it’s cold and this should keep us warmer.”

“I guess,” relents Trunks, and lays down next to him before a thought occurs to him, he smacks the top of Goten’s body. “Don’t be looking so cozy, go brush your teeth idiot.” Which earns him a whine from the younger half-Saiyan, some grumbling and more whining before he kicks the covers off and stalks into the restroom.

This was going to be harder than he thought.

***

Just as he had predicted. It was a disaster, for Trunks that is. Goten seemed to sleep like a baby, and solid like a rock. It unnerved him how little Goten moved in his sleep. Especially with the amount of energy he seems to carry all day.

But no, he slept just fine, he even leaned into him. The bastard made himself comfortable against him and slept soundly. The nerve! And Trunks, kami have mercy on his soul, could not get a wink of sleep. He was far too focused in the close proximity of Goten.

Goten’s head was so close to him that his own breathing could move Goten’s hair. Which also happened to smell amazing whenever he took too deep of a breath. He hoped that Goten did get to sleep for most of the night because his heart would not stop hammering away in his chest. He just couldn’t help but enjoy the body leaning on him.

A huge urge to hug the other overcame him, and he tried, Kami did he try, to not pull the other close. But he wanted to, so he compromised and just laid an arm across Goten’s form. Which seemed to prompt the other to lean into him further.

Maybe he’s cold, he reasoned. He did say that, and Goten did tend to get cold almost every time and anywhere—a trait passed down from Milk. Once he reasoned every bit of his actions, he had a less hard time to get comfortable and pull the other closer. Only then did he manage to fall asleep for a few hours.

***

Goten needs to pee, and badly.

But currently he finds himself in the best position he could ever imagine. If he moves even a millimeter Trunks is bound to wake up and that would terminate this occasion.

He smiles against Trunks’ chest. He’s being hugged, but not a good old regular hug, no! He is being hugged by Trunks to keep him close! He got more than he asked for, it’s almost like a dream. A dream that did come true!

Goten sighs happily, and breathes in the smell of the other male. It’s nice and fresh. Almost like fresh linen but not quite that.

Powder. Baby powder.

That’s what it was, that’s what Trunks smells like. Which is cute in its own right, but it is also quite comforting. He sighs again and feels Trunks twitch. Quickly, he closes his eyes and evens out his breathing. He pays close attention to Trunks’ own breathing and little by little it stops being even.

Ah, he woke up.

He feels him shift slightly, moving him in the processes so that now he is laying against Trunks’ arm. He hears the other take a deep breath before evening out.

Oh, he was only changing positions. Carefully he cracks an eye open and sees the rise and fall of Trunks chest. His other arm is resting against his eyes, Goten can’t help the giggle that erupts from him. Making him blush in the process.

Why is Trunks so cute? And sexy. Fuck. He needs to confess soon, he can’t just be watching from afar. Carefully, he reaches to touch Trunks’ hair, gingerly running his fingers against the soft lavender hair.

Goten stops his ministrations when Trunks moves his arm and blinks up to the ceiling. He lets his arm relax and fall as if he had moved in his own sleep. He closes his eyes and remains there, trying to control his breathing.

He can feel Trunks stare. The fact that Trunks tended to also have a pretty intense stare did not help.

Kami, he wanted to laugh now. But he fought the urge for long enough that Trunks carefully removed his arm from under his head and got up. Guess he should be getting up soon. So much for a nice and warm morning, he pouts mentally.

***

Both half-Saiyans spend the whole day out in the amusement park. Later heading out to grab something to eat and then walking around the shopping district.

When they do finally return home (with Goten entering through the window). He hears his mother call him, asking him if he knew of Goten’s whereabouts.

“No, I haven’t talked to him today!” He calls back heading for his mother’s lab. Popping his head into the lab, Bulma is standing over her desk, lab coat on and one gloveless hand holding the phone.

“No, Trunks doesn’t know either. Ah don’t worry too much about it Milk, I am sure Goten is fine. Yeah, yeah. He is older now, he’ll come back. Yeah, yeah. I’ll let you know if we hear anything or if he turns up here.” Clicking the phone, she looks at Trunks smiling.

“Apparently Goten has yet to appear in castle grounds. It is almost late and no one has seen him,” she says by way of a greeting, “ah but don’t worry about it Trunks, I’m sure he’s fine. He probably wandered off somewhere to look after some wild animal. You know how he can be.”

“Yeah, I guess,” comes Trunks reply before withdrawing from the door. “I’ll be sure to let you know if I hear from him!”

“Thank you Trunksie!”

Rolling his eyes at the nickname, he takes a couple drinks and some snacks so Goten and him can play some more video games.

He’s walking up to the third floor when a thought occurs to him. It has been rather quiet since he got back.

Too quiet. Where is Bra? He knows his father is training in the gravity room, but by now Bra should have made some sort of fuss at his return home...unless-

With wide eyes he rushes up the stairs and skids to a stop in front of his door, kicking the door open.

“Oh-oh, busted.”

 


End file.
